


Raincheck

by CalamityK



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Cute, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sickfic, Yuri has a cold the poor bby, does that apply to sick fic, idk and idc, this is like legit pure fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 04:03:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10070606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalamityK/pseuds/CalamityK
Summary: “You’ll be better before I leave.” Otabek hums; tracing the patterns of his upcoming routine on Yuri’s thighs.Yuri meets his eyes. “And if I’m not?”“Then I’ll just take a raincheck.”--------Or that fic where Yuri is sick and Otabek is simply the best.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [otayuriistheliteralbest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/otayuriistheliteralbest/gifts).



> This was part of an otp dialogue prompt drabble challenge (whoo buddy what a mouthful).
> 
> [otayuriistheliteralbest](http://otayuriistheliteralbest.tumblr.com/) requested: 'Oh man Otayuri #8 and Yurio is home sick from practice a couple weeks before Worlds.'  
> #8=“Do you love me?” “Depends on how much food you brought me”
> 
> Completely and utterly unbeta'd. I hope it lives up to everyone's standards.

A Raincheck _\- N. (idiom/figure of speech) – Something you ask for when you cannot accept someone's invitation to do something but you would very much like to do it another time._

_\---------_

 

 “Do you love me?”

Otabek asks the question to the open air of the living room, as he shuts the front door behind himself. He’s careful not to knock against it with any of the bags in his hands.

Yuri, who’s on the couch in front of him, raises up slowly with a muffled, zombie-like groan. His long blonde hair is ruffled, sticking out from his head in odd knots and tangles, and the end of his slender nose is dark red and puffy.

Otabek stops right before the couch, watching Yuri tug the fuzzy maroon blanket he’s burrowed under, back up beneath his chin, as he levels Otabek with a glare.

 “That depends,” Yuri snuffles, his voice even more hoarse than when Otabek had left him this morning, “on how much food you’ve brought me. What’s in those bags?”

Otabek just chuckles and moves to sit the bags on the coffee table.

“Well.” He says softly, pointing at the first bag. It’s filled to the brim with multicolored boxes from the pharmacy. “This one is all over the counter cold meds and stuff.”

The he points to the second. “This, as you can probably tell from the packaging, is a six pack of blue sports drink. Because I know you’re probably dehydrated, and you bitched all day yesterday about only having purple ones left.”

“It’s not my fault,” Yuri interrupts flatly, “that the purple ones taste like cough syrup. _You_ don’t like them either.”

Otabek smiles, _that’s true_ , but its beside the point.

“ _And this one_ ,” He continues pointedly, unfurling the folded down top of the third and final bag. Its plain brown paper gives away no hint of its contents, but if Yuri could smell through his stopped-up nose, Otabek is sure he’d already know. “is three different kinds of hot soup from the takeaway down the street.”

Yuri looks at him with watery eyes like he’s about to sneeze. “ _Beka_.”

Otabek locates the box of tissues and hands it to Yuri before continuing. “I didn’t know what you’d want so I just got the three I’ve seen you eat before. Then I felt bad about not telling you I was bringing back food, so I also got a piece of that cheesecake you like.”

Otabek sets all the containers out in a neat row, laying a plastic spoon on the lid of each one. He may have gone a little overboard, but Yuri being home sick has had him on edge all day. Practice had been miserable. He’d missed almost every jump because he couldn’t stop wondering if Yuri’s fever had gone up, or if he was sick at his stomach, or if he needed to go back to the doctor.

He’d finally given up and asked Yakov for permission to leave early. Otabek is a guest at this rink anyway, so it’s not like they could have stopped him, and Yakov ended up just waving him off.

Yuri cautiously leans forward, and uses the hand not clutching the tissues to crack open the lid of the middle container. When he sees the inner contents, he lets out a groan that Otabek can’t decipher.

“Good or bad?”

“Very good.” Yuri clarifies. “You’re a fucking angel. I’m going to eat all of this.”

Otabek smiles and gathers up the unchosen soups, leaving the cheesecake. “Take it easy, tiger. I’ll put these two in the fridge for later.”

Yuri whines as he takes his first spoonful. “Normally I’d argue, but my throat feels like hell.”

“I know.” Otabek says, as he moves out of the living room and into the kitchen.

It takes him a moment to get the fridge open, and then he has to rearrange a few shelves to make room for the soup. By the time he returns to the living room, Yuri is halfway through the container and the lid to the cheesecake is missing; the spoon stuck firmly in the middle of the triangular slice, and a few bites already gone from it.

“So.” Otabek says, drawing Yuri’s attention back to him. “How much do you love me?”

Yuri looks at him, visibly swallowing the liquid in his mouth, and waves the spoon in his hand a bit airily. “Oh, you know, the normal amount.”

“Oh really?” Otabek raises an eyebrow and leans against the door frame, crossing his arms expectantly. “Just the normal amount?”

“Fine.” Yuri concedes, pouting. “Maybe a bit more than the normal amount.”

“How much more?”

Yuri sits the spoon and the soup down on the table and then turns bodily toward Otabek.

“So much more, that if I weren’t a disgusting sack of snot,” he rearranges the blanket as he speaks, unleashing a rain of used tissues for emphasis. “I’d kiss you so hard and so thorough, that you wouldn’t be able to go anywhere again until tomorrow.”

Otabek lets his other eyebrow join the climb up his forehead, but he smiles.

“Well,” He says lowly, “I don’t plan on going anywhere until tomorrow anyway, and that sounds like it’d be an awfully good way to prove your love. You know, _if you weren’t a sack of snot_.”  

Yuri groans and flops backward on the couch.

Otabek just laughs, and steps over to him; grabbing Yuri’s feet and lifting them up to sit down.

“Don’t pout.” He says, running a hand over the blanket and up Yuri’s thigh.

“I’ll pout if I want to.” Yuri tilts his head down, a decided frown stuck to his lips. “You leave in a week, and I’m too sick to even kiss you.”

“You’ll be better before I leave.” Otabek hums; tracing the patterns of his upcoming routine on Yuri’s thighs.

Yuri meets his eyes. “And if I’m not?”

“Then I’ll just take a raincheck.” Otabek says lightly. “On the kiss.”

“You’ll take a raincheck?” Yuri raises his own eyebrow, and Otabek watches it disappear under his messy bangs. “And collect it when?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Otabek says, bringing his hand below his chin and looking up in fake contemplation. “How about when we’re at world’s in a couple weeks,” he pauses to look back down at Yuri, making sure to keep his expression flat, “ _when I’ve just won gold_.”

Yuri’s whole face lights up.

“ _Beka_.” Yuri sounds scandalized. “Is that a challenge?”

“No.” Otabek smirks. It’s not a challenge, not really, but he knows it will help motivate Yuri to get better. “ _It’s a raincheck_.”

 

_FIN._

**Author's Note:**

> find my ass over at [Kingotabek](http://kingotabek.tumblr.com/) where I continue being a pile of trash.  
>   
> Feedback is welcome.


End file.
